Read Masters of the Veil Online

Authors: Daniel A. Cohen

Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

Masters of the Veil (24 page)

BOOK: Masters of the Veil
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Sam looked over at Glissandro. “Another old proverb?”

Glissandro stared at the message for a moment. “I think it’s a little more than that.”

Sam rounded the tree’s enormous circumference and continued upwards through the trees. All were close to uniform in shape and size, and Sam wouldn’t have looked twice at any of them back home. Besides the giant message tree, the sights were less than exciting, considering all that he’d seen since coming to Atlas Crown.

Sam clucked his tongue. “Kind of a boring mountain.”

Glissandro didn’t respond.

Sam wondered if it was taboo to call something boring. “All I mean is that for a place where the Mystics live, I expected more mystical stuff.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Sam patted one of the bland trees, “but May told me that the more you use the Veil, the more stuff sprouts. I guess I figured the mystical magic would send out some pretty wild stuff.”

Glissandro nodded. “You’re right, it can.”

“So, why’s this place so dull?”

“The Mystics rarely use the Veil.”

Sam stopped moving. “You’re kidding, right?”

Glissandro plucked a leaf. He held it next to his ear and rubbed it in between his fingers. After giving a satisfied nod, he placed the leaf gently on the ground. “Well, rarely for us.”

Sam rubbed two fingers against his temple. “This place gives me a headache.”

“You see, the Mystics live a lot longer than most, and they really don’t use the Veil that much. For the most part, they study Her.”

“Kind of a let-down.”

“Sorry to hear that,” a voice called out from behind them.

Sam jumped around. A shrouded figure ambled toward them, the hood of his robe concealing his face. He had no second-skin but clenched something in his fist.

“But,” the person stepped into a patch of moonlight, “I’m glad to see you taking an interest in the Veil.”

“Greetings, Delphi.” Glissandro made a bow so low that Sam was surprised he didn’t topple over.

“Must I remind you again that you don’t have to bow?” Delphi let his hood fall back. “No need to lower yourself for an old fool.”

Glissandro bowed even lower.

Delphi sighed and shook his head.

“Hey, I know you.” Sam pointed at the old man’s symbol. “You talked to me at the seam, at the wine river.”

“Indeed.” Delphi mimed knocking back a drink. “Quite the celebration.”

Sam frowned. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

The old man chuckled. As he laughed, the wrinkles on his face creased deeper, leaving Sam wondering how old Delphi really was.

Delphi gestured around them. “I should ask you the same thing.”

“Delphi is one of the three Mystics,” Glissandro played, still bowed at an extraordinary angle.

Sam’s eyes went wide as he realized the old man was the Mystic that May had mentioned earlier. He decided to make a low bow himself. “Oh, hi.”

“Please, stand up straight,” Delphi said with a hurried gesture. “It reminds me of how my height has abandoned me for younger shoulders.”

Both boys straightened.

“I hope you are here to regale us with some music.” Delphi closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Do you sing, Samuel?”

“No.” Sam almost choked on his answer.

Delphi tipped his head, his eyes still shut. “If you’re sure. Although, your voice says otherwise.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m sure.”

Delphi opened his eyes, revealing some disappointment. “I must then assume you have a question for us, Samuel?”

“You can just call me Sam.”

Delphi gave a solemn nod.

Sam cleared his throat. “And, yes. I do have a question. Who are—”

“For
us
.” Delphi wagged his finger. “Not for me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “There’s no one else here.”

“Ah,” Delphi’s face lit up, “then we must find them.”

“More searching,” Sam grumbled. “Do you have any idea where they could be?”

“About three hundred and sixty-eight paces up, and…” he squinted, “seven over.”

Sam was taken aback. “Kind of precise.”

Delphi shrugged. “They could have moved.”

Sam felt another eye-roll coming on. “So, what were you doing out here?”

“Late-night snack.” Delphi opened his palm, revealing a handful of little berries. “The garden May keeps for us seems to be producing more and more succulent fruit every day. She still hasn’t planted any avocados, though. Alas, it’s how she maintains power over me.” He picked out a berry and tossed it in his mouth. As he bit down, instead of making a popping sound, the fruit crackled.

Glissandro played an ascending trill. “Will you lead us to the others?”

“I have one condition.” Delphi licked his lips.

Sam tried his best not to groan. “What?”

Delphi ran the back of his fist across his mouth. “My legs don’t much like walking without a little tune behind them.” He turned to Glissandro. The moonlight made his grin look rather ghoulish. “A very serious condition.”

Glissandro played a classical tune that reverberated throughout the forest. The trees seemed to amplify the sound, making it much fuller, as if hundreds of musicians played along with him.

Delphi started up the mountain and beckoned them with a wave.

After three hundred and sixty eight paces up and seven over—Sam noticed they stepped to the beat of Glissandro’s song—they reached the other Mystics.

Sam didn’t know what he’d expected from the Mystics, but it sure wasn’t what was in front of him.

They occupied a very plain stone plateau, with three rocking chairs on it. The one in the middle was empty, but in the chairs on either side a man and a woman, both with greying hair, held silver chalices. The man was of Asian descent and the woman was about as pale as they come. They swayed back and forth, staring at Sam as he approached. Neither of their symbols matched the one on Delphi’s chest, and neither had a second-skin on. Sam hadn’t seen them before.

Glissandro let the notes die out as they reached them.

As soon it was silent, the sitting man said, “Please, finish it.” His tone was gentle and soothing. The way he said it made Sam wish he could actually sing well, just so he could be the one performing for the old man.

Glissandro happily obliged, and coaxed the last part of the song from his horn.

While he played, Sam eyed the Mystics. Besides the robes, they looked like normal older folks, dignified yet frail. The woman could have even passed for Sam’s grandmother—minus the giant foam finger his grandmother always carried with her.

The surrounding clearing also looked normal. No colored leaves or strange animals—it was just standard woods.

“Wonderful,” the man said as Glissandro finished the song. “You don’t come here enough, young man.”

Glissandro played a bashful bend. “You all have more important things to do than listen to my music.”

“Quite the contrary.” The man rocked back in his chair. “And Samuel, it is nice to finally meet you in person.”

“You know me?”

“We should.” The woman chuckled. Sam couldn’t place her accent, but the way she said “we” sounded more like “vee.” “We’ve seen enough of you to never forget.”

“I’ve only been here for a few days,” Sam felt his face scrunch, “and I’ve only met Delphi once.”

“We have seen you in memory, young man.” The woman tapped a finger against the side of her head. “And we have made plenty of people un-see you.”

“That’s right.” Sam snapped his fingers. “I can’t thank you enough for that.”

The man gave a slight nod. “You’re welcome.”

Sam felt slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t thought to bring a gift or something. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

The two sitting Mystics looked at each other and grinned. They both got up and started walking away.

“Was that rude?” Sam whispered to Glissandro.

His friend just smiled.

Sam watched the old sorcerers bend down at the end of the stone platform. They dipped their chalices into something, carefully carried them back, and then plopped back down in their chairs.

“What name do you see when you look at me?” The woman asked. “What” sounded more like “Vut.”

For some reason, a name popped right into his head. “Margaret?”

“Margaret!” The woman shouted in delight. “Haven’t been her before!” She drained the liquid in her cup.

“And me?” the old man asked, beaming from ear to ear.

Again, a name surfaced, but it didn’t seem right. “Frank?”

The old man looked over at Margaret, who stuck out her bottom lip and nodded.

“That’s the one!” He tipped his cup to Sam and then emptied the chalice into his stomach.

Sam looked to Glissandro for an explanation.

“Now that you’re here,” Glissandro played a soft drone, “don’t ask me.”

Sam turned to the sitting Mystics. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

The woman was smiling. “Every hundred years or so we change names. Keeps things fresh, you see. Now, I’m Margaret. Thank you, Samuel.”

“Frank.” The name passed through the old man’s lips as smooth as a breath. “I could definitely be Frank for a while. I knew a Frankzi back in the Eryu straits.”

Sam gave Delphi an inquisitive look.

The third Mystic shrugged. “I think I’m going to keep Delphi for a while.”

“An alter trombenick.” Margaret gave a wave of her wrist. “He never takes a new name.”

“You let me give you new names?”

“We
asked
you,” Margaret corrected. “Now, I would consider us even for the whole memory-erasing thing.”

Sam paused for a moment. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Down to business.” Frank rocked back and forth. “I like him already.”

Sam felt the muscles in his right arm tense up. “Who are the Tembrath Elite?”

“I’ll field this one.” Delphi joined the other Mystics in the chairs. A chalice already waited beside his seat; he scooped it up and drained it. “The Tembrath Elite are a group of power sorcerers with a single objective. They are attempting to get past the Veil.”

Sam couldn’t believe that he had finally gotten a straight answer, though it was not the answer he was expecting. “Why?”

“Because—”

Margaret cut Delphi off. “My turn. They think that the true power can be found behind Her. For most dark drapes, the hurtful uses of the Veil, the sorcerer has to reach very deep. Dark drapes and grips tend to be the most powerful. Because of this, they assume that the Veil is covering up a source of energy even grander than Her.” She waved a hand. “Narishkeit, I say. If it was grander, then She would not be able to hold it back. ”

Again, they had given him a straightforward answer. Also a weird word.

Sam felt his chest clench. “Does everyone in town know this?”

Delphi spoke. “Yes, this is why the Tembrath Elite were cast out. It was put to a vote, and came up nearly unanimous.”

Sam’s heart started beating faster at the thought of his next question. “What do they want with me?”

Delphi and Margaret both turned to Frank.

Frank sighed. “They haven’t been able to reach their objective, so we assume they want you to join them.”

Sam felt his heartbeat pounding in his wrist, just under his second-skin. “Why
me
, though?”

Delphi went to go fill his own chalice from the reserve. “You have an uncanny ability. What happened at the football game was no mere feat; you may just be the missing link.”

“But I don’t want to join them.” A wave of nausea washed through his stomach. “I just want to play football.”

Delphi returned and raised his glass. “Lucky us.”

Margaret licked her lips. “Any other questions, darling?”

“If I’m so powerful, why can’t I do simple grips? And why—”

Margaret finished his sentence. “Can you do powerful ones? Things that would be improbable for others to complete?”

Sam nodded.

Margaret stopped rocking as a flicker of fear crossed her face. “Out of anger, you can summon the strength to dominate Her energy completely. So can the Tembrath Elite. It is a curse upon those chosen for the power sect. It’s what makes them the most dangerous of sorcerers. This is not the correct way to use Her, however. She is there to work with you. Without Her cooperation, you will be limited. This is what frustrates the Tembrath Elite most. It’s why they can’t accept Her, why they look beyond.” She gave him a calming smile. “The Veil can help or hinder, but She is powerless against people using Her. She can be a healer or a weapon, a builder or a destroyer, a blessing or a curse. But it’s not up to Her. She is the path, but you have the choice of where to go with Her.”

So that’s why Rona got so upset.

“It is up to you to succeed.” Margaret gave Sam a motherly look. “It is all about the decisions you make.”

Sam felt his temper rising, and his head pounded again. “This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for any of this. Can’t the Veil just leave me alone?”

“Calm down, Sam!” Glissandro played a harsh blast of noise. “Don’t speak like that!” The energy in the clearing changed, and for the first time, Sam saw frustration in his friend’s face. He was looking at Sam with disdain, like Sam’s presence was a bitter taste.

“It’s fine, Glissandro.” Frank continued rocking. “Remember, Sam has only just arrived. It must be a lot to take in. Why don’t you let us talk to Sam alone for a moment?”

“I apologize for letting my temper get the best of me.” Glissandro pulled his eyes away from Sam. He drew two fingers across his heart. “Travel well.”

All three Mystics copied the gesture.

“Glissandro,” Margaret’s tone was firm, “I think tomorrow shall be the time.”

He bowed, turned on the spot, and walked away with stiff strides.

Margaret stopped Sam following. “He’ll be waiting for you. Let us continue, just the five of us.”

As Sam watched his friend disappear into the trees, he tried to shake the feeling of disappointment. First Cassiella, now Glissandro: not the best day for his new friendships. He looked back at the Mystics, who were watching him curiously.

Wait
,
doesn’t she mean the four of us?

BOOK: Masters of the Veil
2.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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